


MCYT fics because i like projecting myself on my hyperfixations

by Unknown_Pastel



Category: mcyt
Genre: Angst/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jus random shit lmao, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Panic Attacks, Platonic Snuggles, SBI Family Dynamic, Swearing, The author is projecting onto Tommyinnit, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Trans TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), because adhd brain go brrr, because projecting, but not much of it, i cant tag, i dont think, idk - Freeform, implied suicidal thoughts, oh yeah, sick fics, tommyinnit has adhd, tourettes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:08:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28739994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unknown_Pastel/pseuds/Unknown_Pastel
Summary: This is just a big compilation of me, Unknown_Pastel, projecting myself onto MCYTs. Mainly Tommy. Trigger warnings will be put in the notes of each chapter (if a trigger warning is needed). Please read the tags! Most of these will be one shots unless otherwise specified. Hope you enjoy!!EDIT: Quick note! I am American which means I have NO idea what certain things are called in the UK. So I'll just be using terms that I know because I feel oddly uncomfortable writing with terms that I have no idea how to use lmao.Probably just embarrassment that I'm using the terms wrong, so yeah- Alr, enjoy.
Relationships: Tommyinnit & Tubbo, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 25
Kudos: 484





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Implied suicidal thoughts, self-harm, slight description of self-harm, and swearing (obviously, it's Tommyinnit).

Tommy stared at the screen before him, seeing everything and nothing at the same time. He was blinking endlessly, his hearing having gone out a while ago. He was spacing out again, but (as usual) didn’t notice that he was. A voice was slowly pulling him out of this state as it yelled in his headphones.

“TOMMY!!” Wilbur shouted, causing Tommy to jump and nearly fall off his chair.

“YES, HI, HI, SORRY. What happened??” He stuttered out, sitting back up.

“Jesus man, where’ve you been?”

“Dunno, who gives a fuck. Whaddya need.” Tommy’s voice came out in mock aggravation as he chuckled. 

“Just making sure you weren’t dead or some shit.” Wilbur chuckled. Tommy laughed softly as a thought poked through his mind. He shook his head, biting his lip anxiously. He was sick of these thoughts plaguing his mind lately. A small notification popped up on his phone screen, distracting him for a moment.

‘You’ve reached your milestone of being one month clean!’ It read. Tommy’s mouth twitched in surprise, the corners rising. He celebrated slightly before refocusing on the call. 

“What was that all about? You texting someone special, Toms?” Wilbur teased. Tommy jolted.

“Shut the fuck up, man. And no, I’m not.” He stuck his tongue out. 

“Whatever you say.” Wilbur grinned before dropping the subject, moving back to the game. Tommy smiled gently, looking back at the notification. However, a sudden darkness nipped at the back of his head.  _ *That’s way too long. Reset it.*  _ He shuddered at the thought as he genuinely considered it.  _ *No one’ll know, and I doubt that they’ll care. Jus make sure to hide ‘em when you do.*  _ He spaced out again, mentally floating down the rabbit hole of toxic thoughts. His fingers itched with the urge to do it again. He began to roughly scratch his inner forearms, hoping that’d suffice for now. 

He’d completely forgotten that his camera was on. 

His inner left forearm was now ridden with bright red scratch marks, some just barely bleeding. He blinked in shock when he saw the damage. 

“Shit…” He mumbled quietly. He looked around his setup for something to cover them with. He spotted his black arm warmers and quickly pulled them on. He sighed in relief before turning to widened, concerned eyes. He froze. His mind started reeling.  _ *They saw, didn’t they? Goddamnit, you dumbass!! You left your fucking camera on!! Oh god what’re they gonna say? They’re gonna hate you. Oh god.*  _ He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, avoiding all eye contact with the others. 

“Tommy..?” Tubbo’s quiet voice spoke, shaking violently and breaking. Tommy winced. It hurt him to hear. He wrapped his arms around his stomach.

“I don’t want to talk about it..” He mumbled. He looked over at his mouse, moving it over the leave call button. Before anyone could protest, he simply said “Sorry guys.” and left. He shut his computer down and picked up his phone. He reset the self harm count, it now being down to mere seconds. He closed the app and clicked his phone off. It was starting to ping loudly with notifications, one after another. He’d guessed they were from the others. He turned the sound off entirely as he stumbled into bed. 

As soon as he was wrapped up in his covers, tears escaped down his cheeks, falling at a quick, yet steady pace. He immediately became angry with himself as they did. He felt weak. The anger dissipated as it melted into an overwhelming emptiness. The tears kept falling but he could barely feel them anymore. His phone screen kept lighting up. He sighed as he finally picked it up. Tons of messages, from people who weren’t even in the call, were sent his way. They were all panicked messages, telling him that they’d be there to talk if he needed it. He felt suffocated by them all. 

He was making them suffer because of his stupid mistake.

He sobbed a bit louder as that crossed his mind. He immediately dove into Discord, typing out apologies to everyone. He mainly spoke to the people that were on call, apologizing profusely that they had to see him like that. They all told him that it wasn’t his fault. It pained them to see him like that. 

He messaged Tubbo last.

**Tommyinnit** _ at 9:46pm _

**tubbo, im so fucking sorry you had to see me like that. ill make it up to you, i swear. im so so sorry, i wont do it again. I**

**im sorry.**

Tommy sobbed as he started putting his phone back down. It was a complete lie, he knew he’d do it again. A response was quickly being typed.

**Tubbo** _ at 9:47pm _

**Tommy, I’m not mad at you. I’m not mad at all, actully.** **  
** **If anything, I’m scared.**

**Tommyinnit** _ at 9:47pm _

**i didnt mean to scare you. i didnt even mean to actually hurt myself.**

**i zoned out and it jus…**

**Tubbo** _ at 9:47pm _

**I could tell. You looked shocked at yourslef.**

**Tomminnit** _ at 9:47pm _

**can i call you?**

**please?**

**[Tubbo started a video call…]**

Tommy answered the call immediately, his hands shaking violently. Tears were spilling down his cheeks and, despite the sparse lighting in his room, Tubbo noticed. 

“Tommy, breathe.” Tubbo’s voice whispered. Tommy’s breaths were short and quick. “Please. Everything’s okay.” The other nodded and did as he was told, breathing carefully. Soft sobs were choked out as he did, but he kept breathing. 

The two spoke for hours, eventually falling asleep on call.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Tic attack, blood, slight description of injury.

Tommy groaned nervously as he bounced his right leg. He’s been having a bad tic day but he knew he had to stream. More important plotlines were being added to his character so he needed to be there. He hadn’t told his fans, let alone his friends, that he had tourettes. He was afraid that he’d be made fun of and hated, considering the amount of negative stigma around the disorder. He nearly opted to keep his camera off for this one, but decided to leave it on in case anyone questioned him. He couldn’t manage to think of any good lies to why it was off. Luckily, his tics were somewhat calming down at that moment. 

It’d been about an hour into his stream when he felt his tics start getting bad again. He winced as the thought boiled in his mind. He tried keeping his breath under control, attempting to refocus on the game to calm them down again. 

It wasn’t working. 

A few silent “fuck”s and other involuntairy swears and words slipped out as his right hand was vibrating against his thigh. It was itching to hit something (most likely his table, the side of his head, or monitor), but Tommy tried to force the feeling down. His breathing started coming out in short, quiet gasps. 

Wilbur, who’d been watching Tommy’s stream, quickly chatted Tommy asking him to jump on VC. Tommy noticed the small notification and hopped on the call. He decided to use it as an excuse, so he told his stream that he’d be back before muting and turning the webcam off. 

“Jesus christ, thank you Wil.” Tommy’s hand collided with the right side of his head as he popped his lips a few times. 

“Of course, but,” Wilbur spoke. “what’s going on with you, Toms?” 

“Tourettes.” The younger simply stated, letting out a few more tics. “The stream doesn’t know, and literally none of you know but… I have tourettes.” 

“Well that makes a LOT more sense. You could’ve just told us, y’know.”

“Eh, not really. There’s so much negative stigma around tourettes that I just decided not to say anything. Unfortunately, today just happened to be a bad tic day.” Tommy ticked a loud ‘POG’ before bursting into laughter. “Oh my god, that has to be my loudest tic.” 

“Really? Pog”-Tommy ticked the word again at the mention of it-“is one of your loudest tics? What a coincidence.” The two laughed. “Alright, should I tell the server at least? You can tell the fans next if you want.” Tommy stayed silent for a bit (well, as silent as he could be with tourettes). 

“I’ll think about it.” Tommy turned back to his stream, unmuting and turning his camera back on. “Alrighty, I think we’re gonna have to end today’s stream early. I’ve got some shit to do, y’know school and stuff…” He did his outro and everything (repressing his tics as much as possible) and quickly signed off. 

His tics didn’t get better after that.

He decided to stay on call with Wilbur because he needed some sort of distraction. At one point, he punched the table’s edge and split the skin open on his knuckle.

“SHIT, OW.” Tommy winced, holding his injured hand to his chest. “Fuck.. I’ll be right back.” He quickly stood up and rushed off before Wilbur could ask what happened. He ran to the bathroom. He nearly punched the mirror multiple times but managed to hold back, cleaning and bandaging his knuckle carefully. He walked back to his setup, grabbing a few fidget toys he had. He sat down and plopped his headphones back on. “Wil, they’re getting worse.” He struggled through the sentence, his gasping tic interrupting him many times. “I think i-it might be a tic attack, and I don’t remember where my meds are.” His voice was shaking slightly and he hated how weak he sounded, but he was scared. 

“Okay, shit um…” Wilbur was trying to keep calm for the other’s sake. “Here, I’ll drive over there. We’ll search for them together.” He shot up, rushing to his car. “Do you want me to stay on call?”

“Yes, please.” Tommy immediately answered. He twitched, trying to hold back the more violent tics that could potentially damage him again. The pain from his knuckle was reverberating throughout his entire right hand. He tried (and failed) to hold back tears as it got worse. “Please hurry back.” He mumbled to Wil.

“I’m trying. I promise, I’m almost there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another weak ending XD I'm not good at them


	3. Movie Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyyy, this one actually happened to me! This was a direct projection straight from my life. This one's a bit shorter but still.
> 
> TW: mention of anxiety, food

“TOMMY, HURRY UP!!” Techno’s voice flooded up the stairs. “WE’RE WAITIN’ ON YOU TO START THE MOVIE!”

“JUST START IT WITHOUT ME!!” He called back down. “I’m almost done!” He calmed his tone a bit, but was loud enough that the others could hear. He heard a distant, yet satisfied snuff from Techno. He went back to rummaging through his fidget bag, deciding on one of his favorite auditory stim toys and a Tangle. He also slipped his phone and earbuds into his oversized hoodie pocket. After he was sure he was okay with his chosen items, he rushed downstairs and plopped down on the couch. 

Techno, Wilbur, and Phil were pretty much laying against each other on one couch while Tommy had a full one to himself, per his request, and because he called dibs on it. He’d been having a good day, but he was emotionally worn out and just wanted to lay down. Phil handed over Tommy’s small, personal cheese pizza and clicked the movie on. The youngest didn’t really care what they were watching, he was just happy to be with his family. As expected, he became very distracted about 30 minutes into the film and ultimately stopped paying attention. 

Tommy remembered that he’d brought his fidgets and such along as he sat up and shuffled through his pocket. He found his auditory one first, then the Tangle. He messed around with them for a good while, both because he was bored and because he needed a distraction from the anxiety of eating as much pizza as he did (despite the fact that it was only like 3 slices). He looked back at his family, seeing their eyes trained on the TV, as he slowly fished his phone out of his pocket. He knew they wouldn’t get mad at him for taking it out, but he did his best to hide it nonetheless. He popped his earbuds in and listened to some music. He scrolled through Twitter for a bit before swiping the app away and just relaxing to the music. The soft voices coming from the TV mixed with the music he was playing slowly lulled him to sleep. He felt a hand ruffle his hair softly as he drifted off. 

“G’night, Toms.” He heard Phil’s voice mumble.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Gender dysphoria, emotional breakdown, Tommy wore his binder for too long >:((

Tommy sat quietly in his chair, hearing the voices of his family downstairs. Phil, Wilbur, and Techno were doing… something. He didn’t bother asking what, the most he did was greet them when he got home. He’d rushed upstairs and into his room, immediately tugging on his biggest hoodie. He ran his hand across his chest multiple times, wincing every time he passed by the slight bump raised through his binder. He hated his chest. There’d been countless times where he’d wanted to tear them off on his own, surgery be damned. He was laughing slightly to himself at the thought before he eventually bubbled down into sobbing. He gripped his arms around his chest, his entire body shaking with each short breath. Why? Why did he have to be born the way he was? Why did he have to be born a fucking girl?! He hated it. He hated the deadnaming, the misgendering, he hated it ALL. He choked back multiple screams of pain because of how tightly he was holding himself, his ribs aching with pressure, but he didn’t want to alert the others.

They didn’t even know he was trans.

He’d been on T for a while before meeting the others, but he constantly felt like his voice was still too high to pass properly. He sobbed a bit louder, not caring if the others heard anymore. He was fully breaking down, tears spilling down his cheeks at a rapid but steady pace, nose running. He moved to his bed and slammed his fists against his pillow. The scream building in his throat was threatening to leave, but he couldn’t let it out. He just couldn’t. And when he finally did, it was completely silent. The only sound he made were his breaths.

Techno, Phil, and Wilbur had been talking, but Techno went silent when he heard a soft noise coming from upstairs. He didn’t know what he was hearing exactly, and when he did get some more hints on it, he didn’t completely trust himself.

“Hold on, guys.” He gently shushed the others as he listened again. His thoughts were confirmed as the sound of sobbing echoed in Tommy’s room. “Something’s wrong with Tommy.” He turned back to tell the others that before rushing up to the youngest’s room. Phil and Wilbur quickly followed. When Techno reached the door, he gently knocked, not wanting to alarm Tommy too much.

Tommy shot up. His face was an absolute mess, he couldn’t pass this off as nothing. He didn’t even bother fully getting up, pushing his face back against his pillow.

“Come in..” His voice was broken and shaky, but it was loud enough for the others to hear. Techno pushed through the door, leading Phil and Wilbur behind him. Techno sat down in Tommy’s chair, while Phil and Wilbur sat down on Tommy’s bed. 

“What happened, Toms?” Wilbur spoke softly, running his hand through the younger’s hair. Tommy lifted his head into the other’s palm, sniffling. 

“S-stupid gender dysphoria.” He laughed through the tears (the sound came out as more of a sob, but they got the point). He rubbed his eyes. He knew he was coming out to them by saying this, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to feel validated. 

“Gender… what? Wait.” Wilbur paused, his thoughts clicking into place. Tommy nodded as well as he could. 

“I’m transgender. F-female to male.” He sniffles again. The room went silent. Tommy froze. They were judging him, weren’t they? The silence was suffocating. “G-guys..?” His voice was small, shaking, and anxious. Wilbur started ruffling his hand through Tommy’s hair again. 

“Thank you for trusting us with this, Toms.” Tommy could hear the smile in Wilbur’s voice. Tommy immediately melted, his muscles loosening completely, as more soft sobs escaped him. 

“I was s-so fucking scared, you assholes.” He sniffled, looking up at them now. “You don’t think it’s wrong?” 

“Of course not.” Techno now spoke. “You’re happier as a boy, right?” Tommy nodded. “Good. Be happy. Better be happy the way you want to be than be miserable the way you think you should be.” The younger smiled, but winced. 

“I need to take my binder off, can you guys..?” He made a gentle signal towards the door, and they walked out. He tugged his binder off hesitantly, immediately pulling his hoodie back on. He tried to avoid looking down as much as possible as he walked out to meet the others. 

“C’mon, lets get your mind off things. Wanna watch Up?” Wilbur suggested.

“YOU FUCKIN’ KNOW I DO!!” Tommy rushed down the stairs excitedly, bouncing onto the couch. 

“You’re such a dork.” Techno chuckled, sitting next to him and grabbing the remote. Tommy reached up for it but Techno pulled away. 

“OI! You know I’m taller than you, dickhead!” Tommy stood up and grabbed the remote, sticking his tongue out at the other. Techno sighed and rolled his eyes, but he slumped back in defeat. Tommy clicked on Up and plopped back down. He leaned his head against Wilbur’s shoulder and closed his eyes, listening to the movie and playing the scenes out in his head. He was safe.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Small description of blood/injuries & fight, implied depressive thoughts I guess??? Nothin' too bad tho.
> 
> This was literally inspired by the fact that I want to run away from home lmao- I don't have a bad household, I just am sick of my mom's house and miss the fuck out of my dad.

Tommy rolled his feet back and forth, causing the swing to move slightly along with him. He was so unbelievably tired. He was just.. done. With everything. Every day tired him out more and more, draining more and more from him. He sniffled, wiping some blood from his nose. Oh right. He’d gotten into a fight too. His knuckles were completely destroyed, beaten and bloody. His lip was busted and he was pretty sure there were bruises all over his torso. The other kids hit hard, and he tried to, but they’d pushed him down rather quickly. Once they’d finished, he ran. He ran as fast as he could. He didn’t even know where he was. Where was he again? A park that he’d found, right. He’d been weighing his options, deciding on whether or not he wanted to contact Wilbur. Yeah, that’d work. He pulled himself out of the swing seat and started tracking his way to the nearest train station. 

His phone nearly died by the time he made it. He, fortunately, had just enough money to buy a ticket to Brighton. He hopped on the train (ignoring the strange looks he got) and laid his head back. He watched his surroundings rush past the window, the sunset bathing the scene in the orange light. He took out his charger and plugged his phone in. He’d need it where he was going. 

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been on the train, but here he was. Sitting alone on a cold bench in a train station in Brighton. He pulled his phone out (sighing in relief seeing it was fully charged) and swiped to Wilbur’s contact. He clicked it hesitantly and waited for the other to pick up, silently praying that he would.

_ “Tommy?” _ Wilbur’s voice crackled through the speakers.  _ “Why’re you calling me?” _

“Hey, big man.” Tommy responded, a bit surprised when his voice broke. He cleared his throat and continued. “Can you, uh… d’ya think you could pick me up?”

_ “From where? Are you not at home?” _

Tommy shifted uncomfortably in his spot. “No, uh, actually.. I’m in, uh..”

_ “Tommy?” _

“I-I’m in Brighton.” He winced. Wilbur went quiet in shock. 

_ “You’re…. What? Wait- what?!” _ Tommy heard shuffling from the other side of the phone.  _ “When did you- how?” _

“Got here a few minutes ago. Went on the train.” 

_ “Why?! Do- do your parents know?”  _

Tommy felt a pain in his chest. He hadn’t told his parents. He swallowed audibly, shuddering from the cold. He was NOT prepared for the weather in the slightest. 

“N-no, they uh..” He coughed. “They don’t.” 

_ “Why would you-?!” _ Wilbur sighed.  _ “Okay- no, just- just send me your location.”  _ Tommy did so immediately.  _ “Alright. I’m on my way. But we are talking about this.” _

“I know..” Tommy practically whispered. He pulled the phone away from his ear and hung up. He’d deal with that when Wilbur actually picked him up. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW/TW: TALK OF MURDER
> 
> This was pulled dirECTLY from my life, minus the swearing because I'm not allowed to swear around my dad ;-;
> 
> It happened to me last week. That's f u n.

Something was wrong. Tommy knew that much. He wasn’t sure what exactly, but something was wrong. The first time Wilbur had told him to stay close seemed off, but he waved it away. It was the second time that he started questioning. Not aloud, of course, but he was curious. The way that Wilbur had said it too, his voice just slightly strained. He did as he was told, pacing only slightly behind the other while they walked back to Wil’s car. Then the police car drove through the parking lot. 

“Get in the car.” Wilbur ushered. “Quickly, please.” Tommy, anxiety beginning to boil in the back of his throat, slid into the passenger seat. Wilbur shut his door and eyed the cop car a bit before hopping into the driver's seat. 

“What’s-” The younger let out a nervous chuckle. “I don’t know what’s going on, what’s- what happened?” He fidgeted with his headphones a bit. Wilbur pointed up towards a hotel about a 7ish minute walk away from where they were. There were lights and cars surrounding the front of it. 

“See all those cars over there?” Tommy nodded. Wilbur dropped his hand and started the car, beginning to pull out of his parking space. “Someone was murdered up there a bit less than 15 minutes ago. There were two murderers, both reported to be armed. One is holed up in the hotel, but the other is still roaming the streets. That’s why the cops are out. They’re looking for him, and based on the fact that they’re still driving around, they haven’t found him yet.” 

Tommy’s heart dropped. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. He started fidgeting anxiously, curling his fingers around each other to put some sort of pressure on him. To ground him. The murderer could be anywhere. Literally anywhere. He choked on a breath. 

“And this is why I didn’t tell you until AFTER we were in the car.” Wilbur joked, and Tommy did laugh, but it was shaken. The older’s tone softened. “He’s not gonna hurt us, Toms. I wouldn’t let him. Besides, as soon as we turn that corner, we'll be safe. I promise.” Tommy nodded, pulling the left ear of his headphone back into place. He let himself sink into the music, but that only let his thoughts run wild. 

After a few minutes on the freeway, Wilbur called Phil and told him what happened. Tommy let his paranoia get the best of him as he turned his phone flashlight on and swept it over the backseat. No one. He sighed, settling back into place and clicking the flashlight off. Wilbur stifled a laugh. 

“What was that all about?” 

Tommy stuttered a bit in embarrassment. “Nothing, bitch.” He turned to face his window. He drummed his fingers across his chin, staring out into the darkness searching for any suspicious figure. He was too paranoid. He kept tuning in and out of Wilbur’s conversation with Phil, occasionally throwing something in. Other than that, he was silent all the way back home. 


End file.
